Habakkuk 3
1 En Bøn af Profeten Habakkuk. Al-sjigjonot.
A prayer of Habakkuk the prophet upon Shigyonoth.
2 HERRE, jeg har hørt dit Ry, jeg har skuet din Gerning, HERRE. Fuldbyrd det i Aarenes Løb, aabenbar dig i Aarenes Løb, kom Barmhjertighed i Hu under Vreden!
O Lord, I have heard thy fame, [and] was afraid: O Lord, thy work—in the midst of the years [of sorrow] revive thou it, in the midst of the years make it known; in wrath remember mercy.
3 Gud drager frem fra Teman, den Hellige fra Parans Bjerge. (Sela) Hans Højhed skjuler Himlen, hans Herlighed fylder Jorden.
[When] God from Theman came, and the Holy One from mount Paran, (Selah) his glory covered the heavens, and of his praise the earth was full.
4 Under ham er Glans som Ild, fra hans Side udgaar Straaler; der er hans Vælde i Skjul.
And [his] brightness was like the sunlight; rays streamed forth out of his hand unto them; and there was the hiding of his power.
5 Foran ham vandrer Pest, og efter ham følger Sot.
Before him went the pestilence, and burning coals went forth in his steps.
6 Hans Fjed faar Jorden til at skælve, hans Blik faar Folk til at bæve. De ældgamle Bjerge brister, de evige Høje synker, ad evige Stier gaar han.
He stood forward, and made the earth tremble; he looked and dispersed nations; and there burst asunder the everlasting mountains; there sunk the perpetual hills: the ways of the world are his.
7 Kusjans Telte bæver, Telttæpperne i Midjans Land.
In affliction I saw the tents of Cushan: they trembled—the curtains of the land of Midian.
8 Er HERREN da vred paa Strømmene, gælder din Vrede Strømmene, gælder din Harme Havet, siden du farer frem paa dine Heste og dine Vogne drøner.
Was the Lord wroth against the rivers? yea, was against the rivers thy anger [kindled]? was against the sea thy wrath that thou rodest upon thy horses, thy chariots of victory!
9 Din Bue kom blottet til Syne, din Buestreng mætter du med Pile. (Sela) Du kløver Jorden i Strømme,
Laid quite bare is thy bow, like severe rods of punishment [goeth forth] thy word, (Selah) into rivers thou splittest the earth.
10 Bjergene ser dig og skælver. Skyerne nedsender Regnskyl, og Afgrunden løfter sin Røst.
The mountains saw thee, they trembled; the flowing waters passed along: the deep issued forth its voice, the height lifted up its hands.
11 Solen glemmer at staa op, Maanen bliver i sit Bo; de flygter for Skinnet af dine Pile, for Glansen af dit lynende Spyd.
The sun and moon stood still in their dwelling: at the light of thy arrows they walked along, at the shining of the flaming glitter of thy spear.
12 I Harme skrider du hen over Jorden, du nedtramper Folk i Vrede.
In indignation thou marchest through the earth, in anger thou treadest down nations.
13 Du drager ud til Frelse for dit Folk, ud for at frelse din Salvede. Du knuser den gudløses Hustag, blotter Grunden til Klippen. (Sela)
Thou wentest forth to the assistance of thy people, to the assistance of thy anointed: thou didst wound the head out of the house of the wicked, destroy the foundation with the high-towering walls. (Selah)
14 Med dit Spyd gennemborer du hans Hoved, hans Høvdinger splittes.
Thou didst strike through with his own spears the chiefs of his villages, who rushed out furiously to scatter me; who rejoiced greatly as though they were to devour the poor in secret.
15 Du tramper hans Heste i Havet, i de mange Vandes Dynd.
[But] thou didst pass along over the sea with thy horses, over the piled up billows of great waters.
16 Jeg hørte det; da bæved min Krop, ved Braget skjalv mine Læber; Edder for i mine Ben, og under mig vakled mine Skridt. Jeg bier paa Trængselens Dag over Folket, som volder os Krig.
I heard it, and my inmost parts trembled; at the report my lips quivered; rottenness entered into my bones, and I trembled in my place, that I should rest till the day of distress, till the withdrawing of the people that will invade us with its troops.
17 Thi Figentræet blomstrer ikke, Vinstokken giver intet, Olietræets Afgrøde svigter, Markerne giver ej Føde. Faarene svandt af Folden, i Staldene findes ej Okser.
For the fig-tree doth not bud, and no fruit is on the vines; the productiveness of the olive deceiveth, and the fields yield no food; from the fold the flocks are cut off, and there are no herds in the stalls.
18 Men jeg vil frydes i HERREN, juble i min Frelses Gud.
Yet will I rejoice in the Lord, I will exult in the God of my salvation.
19 Den Herre HERREN er min Styrke, han gør mine Fødder som Hindens og lader mig gaa paa mine Høje. Til Sangmesteren. Med Strengespil.
The Lord Eternal is my strength, and he maketh my feet fleet as those of the hinds, and he will cause me to tread upon my high places. To the chief musician of my songs.
